"The meaning of Zianna is Endurance and also the thoughts to an absent friend of rememberance and goodness and it's lasting affection."

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BEGONIA felt like he was trapped in the tiny shop. His biceps constricted in the tight, black shirt - that wrapped around his body tighter than what he expected. The dark green apron he had tied around his waist and neck was uncomfortable as he fell into a routine. Bend at the knee and pick the crate up, place it on the table. Then stare at the pamphlet Tulip had apparently stayed up late last night to make for him. It told him all the flowers he was going to deal with today.

It told him what the flower was and looked like, even with a little picture. And it made him stare in interest, she had written their little meanings. He smiled, picking up a red tulip, twirling it in his fingers.
She was extremely odd.

"You're doing well, Begonia." She grinned, walking in with dirt coated along her cheeks. He wasn't unfamiliar to dirt at this point. It was crusted under his nails, coated his hands - and even smudged along his bicep. He could see a few girls who walked past, eyes landing on him and freezing. They licked their lips and bought whatever flowers they saw him holding.
"Could I get you to put the Moutan Peonies in the window." His eyed glided over the collection of flower he had been sorting.

"Tulip!" A voice called from inside the main foyer of the store, Tulip's strawberry blonde hair whipped around her shoulders as she sent him a sweet smile before walking back out into the shop.

"Good morning Sir." He heard Tulip's enthusiastic voice greeted a middle aged man. Begonia walked out into the shop, holding the pot of peonies. His eyes landed on the customer Tulip was serving, the man gulping and took a step back from her counter.

"I'm just saying, talk to your Father - " Begonia placed the Peonies on the counter, eyeing the man with a stone cold face. He took another step back. Begonia flexed his arm for effect, standing close to the shorter girl. She didn't seen fazed by the man before her, or beside her.

"Are these the ones you wanted?" He asked Tulip, not taking his eyes away from the man.

"Yes, thank you." She smiled, picking up the heavy pot. He watched her arms flex - her own muscules. He wasn't surprised, she had probably grown up with working on her parents flower farm. He had carried a crate and his muscles were feeling sore. "Can we get you anything Sir?"

"Tell your Father about importing - just think about it." And with that, the middle aged man walked out of the shop. Begonia slowly approached Tulip, who fiddled with the Peonies.

"What did he mean?" Begonia asked, fiddling with some other flowers. He had seen her fluffing up the flowers, had seen how and why she did it. So he fiddled with flowers he couldn't remember the name of.

"Just some companies wanting us to import from other countries." She shrugged, fluffing the Peonies and sliding them into the mid-day sun. He kept his mouth shut, going back into the back of the store. So many things happen to this place apparently.

As the day progressed, he could see how Tulip remained a little tense. She paced through the shop a few times - and then suddenly all the flowers were in a new order. This morning they had been sorted in their similar alphabetical names. But she had reorganized them from shades.

When he came back in from his lunch break, he stopped in the thresh hold. On his left the flowers went from a dark blue, and grew lighter before becoming a red to a light pink. She had colour coded her shop. He stared at the girl behind the counter, who still seemed tense. Tulip smiled, her face paling when she saw him walk in. His eyes landed on the Begonia's that stood proudly.

This is why she didn't want to hire anyone she was close with. This is why most people didn't want to work with her.

Nervously, she fiddled with her broaches, staring at him as he walked over to the reds. He picked up a pot of red roses and switched them around with a lighter one. Now they were properly in their coloured spots. Her shoulders sagged, relief and confusion filling her usually bright eyes. He simply walked into the back room again, knowing he would have to sort out the spare flowers, it would soon be rush hour.

Tulip had warned him this morning how hectic this time of day would be. Apparently tomorrow would be worse. Any and every time the shop would go quiet, Tulip would come and check on him. She tried her best to not hover, but he could tell how she wanted to run things.
Just like the new order she had sorted the flowers.

"How would you like them?" He asked, folding his arms as she darted around the room quickly. Nibbled on her bottom lip for a split second, staring at the area he had tried to keep neat.

"Everything can stay as it is." She smiled, her cheeks glowing pink as the bell jingled out the front. "It's been a while since I've had someone else on the job with me, are you ready?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead went out to greet the new customer with a smile.

He walked out from the back room, carrying a box in front of him. It just so happened to be a twenty-something-year-old girl with her male friend. He wore a shirt that read "I'm gay, sue me" written across his chest. Both their eyed landed on his buldging body.
Begonia merely whipped out his pocket knife, twirling it a few times expertly, before slicing into the box infront of him.

He went into a new rhythm, stacking all of Tulip's new ribbons and papers. He could see out the corner of his eye, the customers sneaking glances at him from around the flower stalls.

It seemed Flowers Delight was now filled with eye-candy to almost everyone.